The builders of the Tower of Babel were determined to make a name for themselves, and so they built a structure that rivaled the heavens. Their tower was not made from stone or wood or any other natural material but from bricks, which man created from dirt. Mastering nature fed the builders’ ego and they became self-obsessed, thinking themselves gods. But when God came down to see this city of man he was appalled by the builders’ arrogance. He scattered them across the earth and disrupted their unity.
So it was—or, for graphic designer Peter Chadwick, the author of a glossy coffee table book titled This Brutal World, so it is—with the Brutalists, a group of architects who created “vast concrete constructions … on a large scale.”
What makes a good winemaker? Is it a viticulturist’s arsenal of facts and scientific techniques combined with access to the best fruit? Or is it the villager’s traditional knowledge of picking, pressing, fermenting, and bottling his grapes? It is this concern, which strikingly mirrors a conflict in politics, that divides the wine world. Two new books capture the fractured condition of 21st century winemaking: speaking for the scientific or Enlightenment left is Terroir and Other Myths of Winegrowing by viticulturist Mark A. Matthews; speaking for the romantic, traditionalist right, there is For the Love of Wine by writer Alice Feiring.
A Russian village has swapped the eternal flame in their World War II memorial for a cardboard painting of a flame due to lack of a gas pipe line, BBC reported Friday.
Hillary Clinton’s closest aide Huma Abedin is so devoted to her boss that she almost sobbed upon learning Clinton had to carry her own bag, a Newsweek profile revealed Thursday.